


Tip Me Over and Pour Me Out

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jensen, Character Bleed, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Control, Teapot, Top Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 13:51:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5746216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha's got a new teapot in his trailer; Jensen thinks it's awesome.</p><p>Jensen's got a new People's Choice Award; Misha thinks THAT'S awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tip Me Over and Pour Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this.
> 
> Ummm... written following the PCA/Teapot presentation, and JaxCon 2016 at which Jensen imparted that the teapot makes really good tea. And also that he wasn't invited to the PCAs, which is uncool, so that's mentioned, because it's a thing that happened.
> 
> I also confess that if anybody's paying really close attention to real-life timelines, this probably didn't happen this way because they weren't back to set very long at all before the PCAs... apologies for condensing time a bit to make this story work. No beta, and written very, very quickly on a single Sunday afternoon, so please forgive the mistakes in my porn. :)

He got the teapot for Christmas.

It was a  _ nice _ teapot, sure. And his mom had been on point, absolutely, in choosing the gift, because he did drink tea and he did like brushed nickel and he did sort of need a new one in his trailer at work; after awhile, the hard water stains just didn't wash out and that drove him nuts.

So, yeah, it was nice and aesthetic and useful, and he liked it well enough.

But he didn't  _ love _ it. He didn't love it the way Jensen loved it.

“Sweeeeet!” The younger man exclaimed on the first day back on set. Early January in Vancouver was balls-out cold, even during this particularly mild El Nino year, so he was drinking tea waiting for his call time as much for warmth as anything else. Jensen closed and locked the door behind himself and Misha looked up at him with eyes raised over the rim of the mug he had pressed to his lips. He was expecting the usual greeting - sparkling green eyes and a knowing, sly smile before Jensen approached and locked their lips together without ceremony - but this time Misha had to keep the mug to his lips in order to hide his smile because Jensen went right for admiring the teapot. “What is this, like a friggin’ $50 teapot? Who does that?”

“Glad to see you brought Dean along with you to this romantic rendezvous,” Misha replied wryly, finally setting his mug down in favor of going in search of his affections, if Jensen wasn’t going to offer them. He approached from behind and snaked strong arms around Jensen’s waist, flattening both palms against the other man’s clothing-ladened chest and feeling from the top down in two parallel lines as he arched their backs together and started laying pecks of kisses just above the collar on Dean Winchester’s shirt.

“Yeah, sorry. Character bleed,” was the murmured reply. “I’m between takes; I don’t really have time to shake him.”

“Shame.” Misha nosed at the skin he’d just been kissing. He knew the feeling, sure; sometimes, when they only had a few minutes but needed a physical release of tension on resets or between calls, he wasn’t sure if it was Jensen’s mouth wrapped around his dick, or Dean Winchester’s; or if it was Dean with his mouth wrapped around Castiel, or if Castiel was fucking Jensen or Dean Winchester hard and fast on the floor of his trailer. It was a lot to process, and it was easier just to not worry about it. But that was Dean for sure, because Jensen didn’t say  _ friggin’ _ .

“It’s a really great fucking teapot,” Jensen tried again, his voice much softer, the way Misha preferred when they were most definitely  _ Jensen _ and  _ Misha _ wrapped up in one another this way.

Misha smiled against the skin of Jensen’s neck then and resumed the line of kisses he’d been placing on the skin. “That’s better.”

There was a slow groan in reply and Misha hadn’t even realized the Cas-like growl in his tone until Jensen said, “Fuck, Mish. You’re gonna get me all worked up, and I gotta… right now I gotta…  _ fuck _ .”

A low chuckle, equally dominating and foreboding, seemed the appropriate reply, along with a nip at Jensen’s right earlobe. “It was a long dry spell.”

“Too long.”

“Tell me more about the teapot, Jen. I haven’t really looked at it as closely as you seem to be right now.”

“Don’t really wanna talk about the teapot anymore, Mish.” Jensen was tense, clearly wound, white knuckling Misha’s formica countertop with both hands, and Misha just chuckled again and snaked his hands down to open Dean’s - Jensen’s - whatever,  _ his lover’s wardrobe _ pants.

“Yes you do. Keep telling me about the teapot, and I’ll keep doing this.” He smiled broadly to himself as he took Jensen’s cock out and started stroking in an expert grip, all the while continuing to kiss and nip at the back of the other man’s neck. “You stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Collins…” Jensen really only referred to him by his last name when he was exasperated and needy, and it made Misha smile even more widely. He stopped, teasing, dancing only his fingertips over the head of Jensen’s dick.

“The teapot. Why don’t you boil some more water, in fact. See how good it works.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m not?” Misha stopped, and when Jensen turned back around to give him a shocked expression, he offered a single arched eyebrow in reply.

“You. Fucker.”

“Much obliged, Mr. Ackles. Now. Water?”

Jensen huffed and whined but did what Misha asked, and the second he’d filled the carafe and plugged it in, Misha’s hands went back to their work.

“Better. Do you still like it? It’s quiet, I like that.”

“Suits you. No whistle. No bells, no fuss.”

“You could learn a thing or two from the teapot, I think.” Misha changed the angle of his hand an increased his grip and rhythm - fun and games aside, they  _ were  _ on set, and Jensen  _ was _ between takes, and if he didn’t finish soon someone was bound to come looking for him. “You’re way too much of a screamer, always sounding off like an alarm when you cum. Whimpering mess even now, and I’m just jacking you off. Jensen Ackles… actor, director, rock star…  _ screamer _ .”

“Misha, please…”

“I do like when you do it sometimes, if only so that I can put my hand over your mouth. The teapot, Jensen. It’s finished already.”

“That… was… quick.”

“Like you. Hmmm… I know you’re close.”

“ _ Misha _ .”

“Little loud there, Jen. But you understand, I like feeling you wriggle in my arms like this and I’m not ready for it to be over.” He let up just slightly on his stroking in favor of pulling out his own erection with one hand and grinding it against Jensen’s delicious ass.

“Wardrobe,” Jensen managed to grit out in warning through the haze.

“You’ll be fine. The teapot, Jensen. Tell me more about the teapot. Do you like that it’s quick?”

“‘S good sometimes when you’re in a hurry… but… sometimes a good thing is worth-- fuck -- waiting for. Misha. I. Fuck.”

“Sure. Sure. What do you think? Are you ready?”

“Please.”

Misha loved everything about Jensen, really, but his most favorite part was how the man came undone. He came with his whole body, always giving it his all the same way he did everything else that he did - no half-measures. Always on, strong, forceful, one-hundred-and-ten percent.

Only when he finished coming down did Jensen turn around in the circle of Misha’s arms, pressing his back against the edge of the countertop, and sweeping Misha up in a deep, tongue-dancing kiss. “That was amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh, no, I was talking about the teapot.” Jensen was laughing before the reply was even completely out of his mouth. And he laughed until Misha claimed his mouth in another kiss to stifle it, prolonging the kiss until Jensen forgot to be funny and just stayed right there in that kiss.

When they parted, Misha closed up Jensen’s pants again, then took a step back to be sure the other man was presentable as Dean Winchester.

“‘M I good?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Sentiments like that always made Jensen blush, and now was no exception, as he ducked his head to the side, abashed.

“Oh, hey. I know you gotta get back, but - tea? For the road?”

“I did do all the hard work.”

Misha put a travel mug together quickly and handed it over with a service-smile. “Chai.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”

And then Jensen was gone, door swinging open and banging closed behind him the way it usually did when they met up like this on set. Misha watched him go before returning to his own tea mug and resuming his earlier position, sitting down on his couch to drink while giving a first-read to next week’s script.

***

Two days later, Jensen was banging into his trailer, up in arms about the request from the People’s Choice Awards for a taped acceptance speech. He was in a state, rambling on about obligations and no respect and didn’t even get a fucking invitation, Mish, what the hell is this and now they want a speech, and Misha handed him a cup of tea and parked him on the couch.

“You’ll do it for the fans,” he said, and Jensen, after a sip, took a deep breath.

“I’ll do it for the fans. But only for the fans, fuck those awards show sons of bitches. No. Wait.” He held up a finger, and Misha smiled because he could almost see the lightbulb go on in his friend’s head. “ _ We _ will do it for the fans. Be in my video, Mish.”

“You know they’ll eat it up. The fans.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it. This is for them, and that’s the best way to make it for them, is to make it with you.”

“So, when?”

“I dunno. I got like ten minutes - now’s good.”

“Now’s good? We need a prop.” Misha scans his trailer quickly, and his eyes land on the teapot, and he gets his own lightbulb moment then. “Got it.” He’s up off the couch, grabbing the teapot and thrusting it at Jensen. “I’ll get Jared to film. It’ll be epic.”

“Dude, no. Come on, man. I can’t even look at that teapot without thinking about sex.”

“Exactly.” He clambored out the trailer door before Jensen could offer any sort of retort.

_ “I can’t even look at that teapot without thinking about sex _ .”  _ Well then _ , Misha thought.  _ When we’re finished, maybe it’s only fair I let you keep it _ .

 


End file.
